


Oh, I draw you in my mind

by Notevenaproperword



Category: Father Brown (2013)
Genre: 5 times + 1, F/M, this is sort of shippy but not right away so
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-30
Updated: 2017-04-30
Packaged: 2018-10-25 01:06:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 3,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10753515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Notevenaproperword/pseuds/Notevenaproperword
Summary: Five times Felicia thought about kissing inspector Sullivan, and the one time she did.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AllKindsOfEverything](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AllKindsOfEverything/gifts).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> set during ep2 of series 3

I.

  
She is snooping in his office, on Father Brown’s behalf of course ; though she would not deny she is curious to go through his things. Very unladylike, her old nanny would disapprove but she disapproved of young Felicia wearing red on Sundays and her climbing trees too.  
  
She has slipped in easily despite her noticeable appearance and the inspector being aware of the father’s propensity to put his nose where it should not be. The inspector desk is logically — not neatly like any place Mrs M gets to tidy — organised and it makes her little enquiry easy.  
  
But a problem arise in the form of Inspector Sullivan coming back. Felicia is trapped, a mouse surrounded by cats. Thankfully, she is a quick thinker. Inspector Sullivan finds her sitting at his desk, her elegant handwriting flowing on a paper. She barely looks at him.  
  
"Lady Felicia do you mind telling me what it is you’re doing?"  
  
She invites him in.The desk is hers now. Oddly enough, he does not get angry right away and does not throw her out. He stands there, quiet and dumbfounded.  
  
"You’re in my chair."  
  
She lies with ease, inviting him to an event she has just made up and will be obligated to organise now. But Felicia is good at reading men she is not immediately interested in, he is suspicious. In his case, however, it would be a lie to pretend he is not an attractive man but he is police and Felicia always falls for the other side of the law. Attack is the best defense she decides. She stands up, batting her eyelashes ever-so slowly.  
  
Taunting him is so easy, she stands close, oh so close. He looks so uncomfortable, her lips twitch. She can’t smile just know. Her eyes flicker to his lips and the thought of kissing him suddenly crosses her mind. She is convinced he would not prevent her from doing so, at least not right away.  
  
He regains his composure too quickly for her liking. He takes her invitation, promises to be there and she snaps out of her daydream. But she sees the crack in his mask and does not pull away. And when she finally does, she does slowly. It is deliberate, she is still unsure : should she kiss the inspector now?  
  
The moment is gone too soon. She delivers the final blow.  
  
"Au revoir... Inspector."  
  
Her voice is low, nothing more than a whisper. The inspector stands still. She goes, not quite losing her grin.  
  
For a month, Lady Felicia can’t quite forget what Inspector Sullivan would look like, lips made redder by her lipstick and friction.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bunty makes an appearance, in a very Bunty-esque way.

II.  
  
  
She almost forgets to organise the soirée and her guest list is a clear proof of that. The mayor of Kembleford and his wife, two writers she knows hate each others, two of Monty’s friends and their sons, and her own niece, Penelope Windermere. The latter is not exactly on the list but her father insists she spent the week away from London. Monty calls her thirty minutes before dinner, saying he will be late.  
  
The evening had not started off too badly. Monty’s friends and their sons arrive first, and, despite Monty’s absence, have been nothing but kind to her. The other guests arrive one by one after that. Inspector Sullivan comes last, in a neatly pressed suit and bearing flowers. Penelope, being Penelope, makes a quip about it, leaving the inspector with no other choice but blush. 

  
Cocktails and most of dinner go well. The two authors behave themselves, rather enthralled by Penelope’s latest racy adventures. The sons are too while both Monty’s friends are engrossed in a political debate with the mayor. Inspector Sullivan interjects too but he mostly listens. Felicia makes sure the mayor’s wife is not cast aside, listening to the woman ranting about everything a respectable lady should be. Felicia is certain the woman is trying to give her some kind of lesson about morality when one of the authors says :  
  
"Miss Windermere you definitively take after your aunt!"  
  
Penelope turns to her aunt, eyes ablaze and curious. Inspector Sullivan catches Felicia’s amused gaze.

 

"Don’t listen to him Bunty! Howard was a journalist once.  
— You wound me, dear Felicia. But trust me, Miss Windermere, your aunt has a naughty streak. She is the specialist of, what we call, anti-soirée."  
  
Howard grins while Bunty grows curious and curiouser.  
  
"What exactly is an anti-soirée?" Sullivan asks.   
  
Politics are now the least of his worries. 

Felicia squirms uncomfortably in her seat. The mayor’s wife has fallen silent.  
  
"Well, Inspector, it’s when you are at a party —  
— Like this one?  
— Oh no, a dull one. Aunty Leesha never throws dull parties!  
— I can vouch for that."  
  
Felicia loses her grip on her party. She suggests drinks in the sitting room because she sees the twinkle in Bunty’s eyes, which can only mean one thing : impending disaster.  
  
"So inspector, it’s when you are a party you usually don’t enjoy and you take it elsewhere, making it more fun. For instance, if we establish that this dinning room were the center of a boring soirée, I could nick the wine carafe and invite Paul and Frank to follow me in the boudoir for a game of cards."  
  
There’s amusement in the inspector’s eyes.  
  
"Alas, those days are behind me now," Felicia theatrically declares. "Shall we go in the sitting room ?  
— It is rather childish. A disgraceful habit for a woman of Lady Felicia’s rank."  
  
The mayor’s wife’s tone is cutting and the atmosphere changes radically after that. Her guests follow her into the sitting room, of course but Bunty has a bone to pick with the mayor’s wife and Monty’s friends are now oddly interested in learning about Felicia’s anti soirées. The authors fight for the best story.  
  
Looking back, Felicia can’t pinpoint the exact second her dinner party goes downhill. She can retrace the succession of events quite well but she sees no way she could have prevented Bunty from putting on some music while distracting her husband’s friends from listening to the tales Monty does not know about. Then the mayor and his wife start fighting, the authors little competition unwinds. Glasses are shattered and a very good bottle of whiskey is spilt. The wife storms out, her very expensive dress ruined, her husband follows but with an odd expression, which implies that it is the most fun he has had in a long time.  
  
Lady Felicia chases the authors out, with her sweetest smile and angriest eyes. Trust Bunty to chose that exact moment to go for a ride with the two young men. The fact that it is the middle of the night does not even bother them. The motorcar disappears in the night, as does her niece and her roaring laughter.   
  
Felicia is left standing alone in the middle of the hall.  
  
"Was that Bunty I just saw?"  
  
Felicia jumps. Monty walks in, offering no explanation whatsoever but brushes his lips against her cheek nonetheless. Somewhere deep inside, she is actually relieved he is here to take _his_ friends off of her hands. The sitting room looks like a war zone and the inspector has vanished. Monty’s friends shrug when she asks about him. Monty offers the men cigars in his study and leave Felicia alone with the maid.   
  
The redhead sighs, pours herself some brandy and steps out on the terrace.   
  
"Can an anti-soirée be instigated if the party is far too… enjoyable?"  
  
Felicia jumps for the second time this night. Inspector Sullivan is leaning against the wall, an empty glass in his left hand. She regains her composure quickly and shots him a dazzling smile. A part of her is glad he is still here and has not ran away into the night.  
  
"I suppose so, Inspector. But it’s not much of a party now. It’s simply Monty and his friends in his study and us, out here. I hope you don’t have a too bad opinion of me now." She says, her voice softer. Sullivan shrugs and joins her in the light pouring out from the French windows. She notes that his eyes are just a little darker than Monty’s.  
  
"Well, to be blunt, no more than before."   
  
Felicia shots him a curious glance, eyebrows arching. Her eyes get caught on his lips, wondering what he would make of her if she were to kiss him.   
  
"You are part of Father Brown’s little clique after all." The inspector adds mater-of-factly, unaware of Lady Felicia’s thoughts racing.  
  
She chuckles.  
  
"But he is like you, Inspector."  
  
It’s his turn to arch an eyebrow. Would he keep that expression if she were to kiss him ?  
  
"He is a good man."  
  
Uttering these words, she dismisses the thought of kissing him right there, in the light pouring from the sitting room. Inspector Sullivan is a good man and a good man would not let her kiss him knowing her husband was a few rooms away.  
  
"Ah! Here you are Felicia!"  
  
She is startled for the third time that night.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> set during ep5 s3  
> this one is rather short i'm afraid

III.  
  


The third time she really thinks about kissing him is a fleeting one. They have to win the cricket ground, and all hopes rest on her shoulders.

 

 _6 brothers_ , she thinks. _6 brothers_. She has no other choice but to make the shot. She fails once, and it’s not when they win that she is suddenly overwhelmed by the urge to kiss Inspector Sullivan.

 

No, everything takes place during the seconds that follow her missed shot. She hears sighs and minds accepting defeat. Inspector Sullivan doubts her to, she sees it in his eyes. He gestures for her to take it easy. He wants to be reassuring; she finds it endearing.  
(In other circumstances, she would have kissed him right there).

 

But she knows they can win now. Inspector Sullivan’s obvious deception is a challenge. She makes the shot, they win. She misses his astonished face because of Sid.

 

(If she had seen it, she would have thought of kissing him).


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> on the shorter side again

IV.  
  


“They never left the museum!”  
  
The words echoes in Lady Felicia Montague’s head and the time it takes her to understand, is all Father Brown and Flambeau need to run and leave her alone. She feels so used and reconnects her telephone. She feels so used when she calls Mrs M, asks for Sid to pick her up and bring her to the presbytery. She feels so used and she says it out loud too. Father Brown tries, in vain, to reassure her but it’s not enough to make her feel any less foolish. Mrs M says nothing but Felicia knows she is nothing but a dim-witted tart in Mrs M’s mind now. And Sid, even Sid who would put his life on the line for his employer, doesn’t see how hurt she feels.  
  
She closes her eyes and hears Flambeau’s other set of words too. The pang of sadness hurts her a little more each time. When Monty returns, she observes him at breakfast. It’s stupid and childish, but a part of her wants to prove Flambeau wrong. Another foolish decision; Monty looks right through her. He never worries about her.

(How could he? She never tells him anything.)  
  
Inspector Sullivan calls her down to the station. He needs her deposition about the whole affair and Felicia complies. She is not herself these days, banter with Sid seems pointless and mentioning anything scandalous before Mrs M brings her no joy whatsoever.  
  
Inspector Sullivan is considerably colder than usual. She doesn’t tease him and tells him everything. Except the part that hurts. (It’s the part she remembers most and the clearest.) All she wants is to be done with it, forget the thief and ignore her husband as much as he ignores her.  
  
The inspector notices. She should not. (It is in his job description after all).  
  
“Lady Felicia,” he starts, carefully. _Did Flambeau hurt you in anyway?_ He wants to ask but doesn’t. Instead he settles for the much more generic: “How are you?”  
  
The question catches her off guard. Their eyes cross path. She sees he cares, a little at least and it’s more than her husband.  
  
She thinks about kissing him, for comfort at least.

She doesn’t.


	5. Chapter 5

V.  
  
  
She listens to the wireless, absentmindedly. Until a description catches her attention – to be fair she always had had something for dark haired criminals.  
  
_“… male in his thirties, six feet tall, slim built, black hair and clean shaven.”_  
  
Now that’s an enticing portrait. The man is wanted for murder of course but lady Felicia Montague has no intention of marrying him. She simply notes that he could have been a potential lover of hers.  
  
Then comes the phone call and she can not help but laughs. The inspector who she finds handsome but would not have taken as a lover before becomes a murder suspect and that’s when she considers he might have made the list. Nevertheless, she is fond of him and her level of amusement is far inferior to her fear.  
  
Sid laughs too at first, because he doesn’t believe her. But when he understands that she is serious, he laughs even harder.  
  
“Sid! Enough!” She snaps. He stops laughing like a maniac but doesn’t lose his smirk. She looks at him begrudgingly during the whole investigation.  
  
Felicia’s pace quickens as she nears the presbytery door, Sid in tow. She does so unconsciously.  
  
(She cares, she cares, she cares.)  
  
The man she finds hunched over a plate of Mrs M’s soup is not the inspector she knows. Her heart sinks in her chest, deep and fast. It pains her.  
  
(She cares and it shows.)  
  
Sid makes fun of the inspector; Lady Felicia doesn’t understand a word her chauffeur says, she has only eyes for Sullivan.  
  
He looks up, boring his eyes in hers.  
  
“I’m innocent.”  
  
His gaze never leaves hers. He wants her and her only to believe him.  
  
(At least that’s what she choses to believe.)  
  
  
_I know, I believe you._ But the words never make it out. Felicia is too busy thinking about a way to prove it. She could sit down, take his face in her gloved hands and kiss him lightly over and over again, easing his pain and chasing his worries away.  
  
  
But she doesn’t, she just stands there, lips tightly pressed together.  



	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the one she does.

(+I).  
  


Lady Felicia is nervous. She doesn't show it but she is. She sharpens her pencils for the umpteenth time and lays them down on the table beside her. Felicia can hear Mrs M fussing in the background. She sighs, stands up and smoothes her palms over her dark capri pants.  
  
"Mrs M, will you stop harassing my help?  
\- If you knew how to chose them, I would not have to school them."  
  
Lady F rolls her eyes. Mrs M huffs and tries to take a peek at her friend's canvas.  
  
"Mrs McCarthy..." She warns her.  
  
Bridgette McCarthy groans but surrenders.  
  
"Are you sure you don't want me to -  
\- No please, for the fiftieth times, no I do not need you to stay.  
\- Alright, alright! I do have more important things to do anyway. I shan't bother you anymore. Goodbye."  
  
And Mrs M goes, muttering about Felicia being ungrateful. The countess chuckles. She knows she wouldn't handle herself as well as Mrs M does in her place. The Kembleford fair is only a week away and Bridgette is to thank for the coordination. She is also to blame for putting Lady Felicia in charge of completing a series of portraits depicting the leading figures of Kembleford. Of course, at first, she hadn't intended to put Lady Felicia in charge but a series of unfortunate events led her to give her this mission. (Mrs M will never admit it but Lady F draws better than she writes.)  
  
Felicia fiddles with her pencils again. Drawing the mayor is a breeze, once she gets rid of his wife. She does her own husband too because Mrs M insists she does so. But Monty gets bored soon enough and starts picking on his wife. She leaves in a fury, and finishes the portrait with her memories.  
  
Father keeps leaving in the middle of their sessions and she needs two weeks to complete it. She does Mrs M in one sitting, and inspector Sullivan is due next.  
  
She knows the mind of all her precedent models and most of them like her. Inspector Sullivan, on the other hand, troubles her. He is a little rough and has good in him. When she's with him, she almost absent-mindlessly wants to adjust his tie, smooth down his lapels and... perhaps, the contrary : messing his hair with her hands and kiss him.  
  
A subtle rasp on the door brings her back from her daydream. Its object is standing there, visibly embarrassed.  
  
"Hum... Hello?  
\- Ah, Inspector Sullivan. Do come in."  
  
He steps in tentatively and looks back at her.  
  
"Will this take long?"  
  
A smile graces Felicia'a lips.  
  
"Do not worry, Inspector, you'll be out of here earlier than you hope.  
\- I didn't mean - "  
  
Her laughter cuts him short. He blushes and frowns.   
  
"How to you want me then?"  
  
She stops laughing. He has caught her unaware without meaning to. Felicia points the sofa.  
  
"Sit there and... may I offer you some tea?  
\- No, thank you.  
\- Good."  
  
He obeys her, sits and Felicia starts to work. She does some sketches first, trying to find the exact way the light hits his face, bringing out his frown and his ever so subtle smirk. Her work proves to be more difficult than she had hoped. She picks a new pencil and frowns.  
  
"Is there something wrong?  
\- It's... it's you."  
  
He arches an eyebrow.  
  
"What I mean is that you are tense inspector and it shows. Do I scare you ?  
\- No, of course not.  
\- Good, I would be very distraught if that were the case. Do you want to see the other portraits ? To reassure yourself?"  
  
Inspector Sullivan nods. His eyes never leave Felicia as she crosses the room. She sits next to him, her right knee bumps into his and for a second she considers leaving it there. He shifts in his seat, she misses the contact immediately. His eyes follow her hands, and the lines she so properly threw on the paper.  
  
"Don't tell the others, I refused to show them.  
\- And they accepted ?  
\- Yes.  
\- Even Father Brown ?  
\- Even Father Brown."  
  
He seems to doubt her and it pleases her somehow.  
  
"Your portraits are very good, Lady Felicia. So good that I feel like Mrs McCarthy is going to offer me something to eat.  
\- As a matter of fact, she left scones for you."  
  
He smiles softly.  
  
"How do you do it?  
\- Draw? Well, each and everyone of us has a distinctive feature. Sometimes it's the nose, anyone can see it, or sometimes it's just one line."  
  
Neither of them realise that lady Felicia is now touching inspector Sullivan's forehead, following the sharp lines making his frown. He doesn't flinch when her index leaves his brow for the corner of his mouth.  
  
Her eyelashes flutter ; she kisses him.  
  
He doesn't fight it.


End file.
